On the run
by La Dormeuse
Summary: Van has started running. From the law, from misunderstanding, from life, from a woman. And when you start, it's very hard to come to a complete stop. But what will halt him? Or get him caught instead? And who will find him first? Three-part V/H Complete x
1. On your marks

A/N: yello! Just a quick three-shot inspired by watching The Bourne Identity. Cool Movie, ne? Hope you like the overall plot and the ending. All the best and let me know what you think. (Redone and changed for the better!)

All my love

Yasina xx

* * *

He was running as if he had wings attached to his shoes, speeding through the streets. Most people moving out of his way, stopping and turning to stare at his disappearing back. The man in the black suit, who looked like a typical rich-boy banker was running; and not just running down the street. He had a perfectly good reason, as if most people were chased by the police; and those that were chased by the police were well-dressed men in designer suits and had what seemed like the entire police force chasing after him. He just thanked his lucky stars or not so lucky, considering his current circumstances that his briefcase and laptop were left in his car.

However he was extremely pissed that he had been caught, after everything that he had learnt from his brother and well just everything. He knew this district of the city fairly well and weaved his way in and out of the main streets until he came upon the small alleys knowing that he would hopefully lose track of one of them by hiding in a shop or behind something.

After his brother's profession he knew he shouldn't have left himself get caught in the predicament he was in, but it had played out in such a way the only thing he could possibly do was to run as much as possible. Getting caught and the media scandal that would no doubt follow would cause chaos and his parents – his father would kill him and then would come from people how he was unfit for what was his.

All his previous work and building the empire he had received from his father and had soared to dizzying heights all under his care would disappear in everyone's eyes. All replaced by one tiny mistake, no a misunderstanding.

As he continued to run he mentally checked his pockets but couldn't feel a mobile phone hitting the side of his leg or his back or even against his chest. He swore mentally wondering if it had fallen out of a pocket when he had started to run, all that sprinting in high school and the rivalry with younger class members had definitely helped as he had heard the policemen panting away when he had broken into the sprint which was now slowing down.

Even without it, the ice-cold part of his analytical mind was racing through the numbers he could have called to help him out of this madness. One part even considered slowing down and going back, and trying to rationally work his way out of it. But he knew – the one other phrase that was running through his mind as he ran – _you ran when you saw them, your guilt handed to them on a golden platter_.

He sighed, taking deeper breaths as anaerobic respiration started to take over his body and fill his muscles with lactic acid. He had run many races and every Saturday kept time with the fastest person he knew, but the nerves and adrenaline pumping through his heart twice a second weren't helping him.

The chase was on, he had first thought expecting them to give up any second.

Or his brother and his people would have stepped in somewhere along the way, knowing that they covered police radio bands constantly. Surely the number plate of the car would have sent alarm bells ringing through them all. He was praying for a miracle, preferably one that would yank him into an alley, with a change of clothes or some disguise and to get him somewhere safe where the police could be put off the scent immediately and he would walk away unscathed.

The sirens were fainter by the minute as he weaved his way through the tiny streets, scanning for a bicycle or any form of transportation he could use, as he could still hear the heavy footfalls and panting of two or three men behind him. He didn't even see the empty box that tripped him up, but he saw the ground as he fell onto it and then was jumped on by two police agents, cuffed by one of them and the third smugly read him 'his rights,' panting more than he was and lead him away to a police car.

The lactic acid in his body, which he felt had all spread upwards towards his lungs made him incapable of any speech as he came out into the full daylight of the open street and the police car waiting for him. He knew about vague procedure from what his brother had told him and from police dramas on TV and his hopes all hung on the one phone call he could make or call for a 'lawyer' when calling in his brother.

His wallet contained his driving license, I.D. Card, all with his name on it and within hours or minutes it would be everywhere that he had been arrested and was in police custody. It would be the end of him, his fatalistic approach kicked in as his head was pushed down and into the backseat of the police car. Gaea knows what would happen in the interview room.

Van Fanel cringed, thinking about what the police were going to say when they sat him down and started to talk. The only thing left for him to do was pray – and for a man that was agnostic, he thought his only guardian angel at the time was a person he was rather uncomfortable around anyway.

Meanwhile a young woman quietly sipping a coffee in a small cosy café looked out the window and staring from the police car to what was resting on her table she smiled.

* * *

To be continued….


	2. Get set

A/N: This part was inspired by the song 'Hold me, Thrill me, Kiss me, Kill me' by U2! Listen to it, it's magic!

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Meanwhile a young woman quietly sipping a coffee in a small cosy café looked out the window and staring from the police car to what was resting on her table she smiled.

Hitomi Kanzaki had seen the dark haired man sprint past the café and the down the alley alongside it, barely paying attention. Her full focus on that of the non-living occupants of her table, including her coffee cup as she didn't want to spill it down her blouse before work began; unlike her cup of tea the night before which had landed all over her favourite sleeping t-shirt.

A t-shirt that coincidentally belonged to the same person who had caused her to spray tea all over it, not by choice but in shock her jaw had dislocated itself, and tea had drizzled from her mouth onto the t-shirt.

But that wasn't the important thing she had to remind herself, was the event that had taken place and her reaction to it. Not that her analytical mindset was helping as the emotional part of her brain, self-affectionately known as Mimi (one of her less favoured nicknames) was in overdrive and telling the analytical skills to go up themselves, causing an all out war between the parts of her brain, only adding to the situation a headache.

This explained the coffee that morning and the daze she was quietly occupying, thus not paying attention to the identity of the sprinter who was then chased by the police. And even the police sirens had failed to pull her out of the reverie, but the growing crowd noise and those in the café who had been staring aimlessly out the window on the scene were now closing in around her to find out what was going on.

So she looked up at the right moment in her eyes, and watched a man she recognised instantly being pulled towards a police car, the officers far more out of breath than he was. His head pushed down and into the car, handcuffed to an officer. She smiled at the complete irony of the situation, after all he had trapped himself and she was going to relish every moment of this situation.

She quietly sipped her coffee, while noting the car registration number, then took out her mobile phone and dialled a number then pressing certain keys and grinned at the information she was about to give to someone who would rejoice in the prospect of catching someone completely off guard.

* * *

Van Fanel had the entire police ride in stagnant silence to mull over the chaos that would occur once the word got out of his current circumstances. Nonetheless, the sarcastic part of mind that sounded identical to his brother's voice told him the silence was only negative on his part.

The officers in the car had all been chasing him, the one sat next to him still red in the face but they were all radiating smugness at catching the bastard – in their eyes – that had made them run for a good 15 minutes after committing an 'offence.' People these days were killing people; drug dealing and no one stopped them.

And he, he of all people – who looked nothing like a criminal, at least in his view; was caught by the police and on his way to a police station to be questioned. But it wasn't the 'offence' he was worried about, but how it would get out in minutes and be plastered round, making him infamous for all the wrong reasons. Not that he wanted to be famous anyway, he liked not being noticed; which was hard for him because of his family and the industry he was involved in.

But when he wanted to be noticed by someone he wasn't. He asked himself what made him think about something completely useless at this moment. But it was true, he had gathered the courage to explain his doings and motives the night before to the one person who hadn't seen it but needed to; and yet nothing came of it.

He decided that he had let Merle make him watch one too many saccharine films where the warring couple got together in the end or the oblivious part of the couple came around and fell into the pining one's arms. He almost laughed at such a thing, but it hurt to know that his words and the meaning of them had led to nothing, not even an apology for being completely oblivious to his feelings.

But it didn't matter he thought as he was shoved out of the police car, hauled up the steps into the police station and pushed into an interview room. They obviously wanted to get him in and convicted as soon as possible. But he knew once the mess was sorted out, it would enter the public domain swiftly and leave him filled with embarrassment in front of everyone.

The previous night's embarrassment would have no comparison to this. However last night had hurt him, as if someone had upper-cut him and winded him, this would make him want to hit something, well so did last night but for completely different reasons.

He was so preoccupied with the memory of the night before he paid no attention to the people entering the interview room, sitting on the other side of him and asking for his name. After the emotional and now physical overload that had occurred within the past 12 hours, Van Fanel didn't feel like being agreeable – whether it was towards the police or even the Devil himself, one step higher from Dornkirk.

It was during this split second that Van had an epiphany, and like most epiphanies, he really didn't enjoy the news it heralded, and it wasn't of the birth of his saviour.

As the police were starting to click their pens sadistically and ask once again for his name, he realised that if the events of the night previous had occurred in the optimum way, which he had wished for desperately, then he probably wouldn't have been awake at this point. And if he had been awake, he wouldn't be here but enjoying his life in a far better way.

But no, life just had to sneak up behind up and shove a cattle-prod up his arse, so he wasn't best pleased. Nonetheless, his perspective of the situation was about to take a drastic turn, which would leave him more mystified than he had been before all this.

All he did was in parrot fashion demand a lawyer, but after fifteen minutes of his 'supreme evil glare,' they relented as long as he told them his name, which he begrudgingly gave. A tiny voice in his head that sounded surprisingly a lot like Dilandau told him to lie his backside off and give a fake name, all fake details. Which seemed like a very good instantaneous idea, aside from the small flaw that his wallet in his back pocket had not only his driving license, but his national I.D. card which clearly had printed his name on it.

The mischievous side of him, which also sounded a lot like Dilandau told him to use someone else's name and the only one that came to mind was Dilandau's. However this idea was also immediately scrapped with the realisation that Dilandau had had a fair few scrapes with the law as both a teenager and still today, and Van didn't want to pay a large lump sum in parking tickets and fines, in the knowledge that Dilandau would probably never pay him back.

Van sighed as he gave his name, however the policemen didn't seem to react to it. There was no sudden fanfare to say, Oh Mother of Escaflowne we've caught Van Fanel trying to hotwire a car, and a nice car at that. He inwardly groaned and cursed his entire life, knowing that this one moment would stand out like a beacon over everything he had done in the past and that his peers and colleagues would let it alone as a dog is with a favourite bone.

Paris Hilton wouldn't be needed for that evening's headlines, as he would be all over the papers. One simple slip of his judgement, no his sanity and it was going to cost him everything.

He wanted to throw up at this point, but ingested it and winced as the door opened to the interview room and a burly looking plain clothes sergeant looked at him smugly, but then turned to someone behind him with a rather vicious tone as if Van was his bone and he was letting go rather resentfully and said over his shoulder to the obviously shorter person, "He's all yours," stepping aside to reveal a sight that Van would never forget as long as he lived.

* * *

A/N: Okay, Part three and final part is coming up!


	3. Go!

A/N: And to everyone that read it, thank you for reading it, you may not even read this but I'm grateful. The song for this chapter is Terra Firma by Delerium and the opening theme to The Day After Tomorrow, as well as the scent of Comfort pure soft-rinse lol. And here's the final instalment…

* * *

Where we were last:

_(he) said over his shoulder to the obviously shorter person, "He's all yours," stepping aside to reveal a sight that Van would never forget as long as he lived._

* * *

The officers in the room with Van took in the sight before them.

Their superior was glaring at the woman in front of him as if she had called him impotent or his children illegitimate. But there was a perfectly good reason why he was ballooning with anger as he told them,

"This is Agent Strategos, she's with Central Intelligence. She wants to speak to the man we're holding." Two of the officers looked at her.

As police officers they were unimpressed and angry that a small, slight looking woman was a Federal Agent and would swoop in and take the man that they had chased after for a good twenty minutes through rough terrain.

As men they appraised her physical aspect, more carefully than the average male as they had learnt surveillance techniques but with the same attitude of testosterone fuelled teens as they admired her calves, her delicate looking wrists and the red pendant around her neck peeping out of her v-neck green top that peeked out from her buttoned black jacket, up to her wispy long blonde hair. They were too busy admiring her 'form' secretly and annoyed at her that she would take 'their' criminal away from them.

Nonetheless the cool customer they had sitting across from them who apparently only knew how to demand for a lawyer. One had even suggested quietly that he could be foreign; his Gaean had a Fanelian accent to it, no doubt pleasing to the ladies; but maybe he couldn't speak very much Gaean.

However his reaction to the female agent and her words left them in no doubt he could speak Gaean perfectly.

Van stared at her. Of all places to see her, it was here. She smirked slightly at the look on his face, and then put on a playful scowl as she walked over to the table, perched on one side and sighed dramatically,

"I'm insulted you know. Of all the different scenarios I'd possibly imagined and been paid to think up, this wasn't one." The officers stared at her casual manner towards Van as if she knew him socially, she looked the criminal in the eye and splayed out her palm in front of him, silently waiting.

When he made no response she continued,

"Your wallet please. So I know which name to use. The amount of aliases you've racked up over the years is astounding so I'd like to know how to address you this time," when he made no response or movement, just staring at her, she repeated,

"Wallet please." And this time he acceded, reaching into his back pocket and placed the wallet into her hand, his fingers gently brushing against her palm, she blinked at him.

But before she opened the wallet, she turned to the officers that had been not so subtly checking out her backside and asked sweetly but with enough steel in her voice,

"Did you check his pockets before you brought him in here? Are we sure he doesn't have a knife or a weapon on him?" The officers started to rise, seemingly embarrassed for the oversight and the fact they had been paying more attention to her than the situation at hand; but she stopped them with a flick of her wrist.

She then turned back to face Van and opened his wallet, flicking past the credit cards and sliding out the driving licence and placing it on the table and sliding it across to him.

"Please tell me what the name is on this I.D."

Van looked up at her as if to ask what she was doing, and what she was playing at, but under her gaze and the officers and sergeant now in the room he looked down and read,

"Van Fanel."

"Very well, Mr. Fanel it is." As she said these words, ripples of shock spread through the room at the name mentioned.

The agent sighed and swivelled again towards the police officers,

"The man in front of you is one of Gaea's best conmen. We've had him pull rugs and carpets out from underneath us for a good few years. Each time he takes some object or sum of money that goes unnoticed until we realise what he's taken and it's too late to find him connected to it as he's sold it on and the trail's gone cold."

She gestured negligently before continuing,

"But we've caught stills of him before and after every event, with different names and all sorts of fake papers." She turned back to the man sitting on the other side, his face quizzical and looking at her as a small infant would a nursery school teacher.

"Well, this time you're Van Fanel. And I'd be very interested to find out how you got a hold of such a person's I.D. as he's one of the top businessmen in the country. I know him and I don't think he'll be very happy to find out his driving licence and whatever else you have on you had been cloned."

The senior officer aside from the sergeant, the one who had leapt on Van and caught him spoke up,

"So this man is a wanted criminal, even the Government's after him?"

And got a short nod in reply, though her eyes and body were facing the man on the other side of the table, she let out a breath and murmured,

"He's so good, we don't even know his real name. Far too slick for us," she grinned slightly, "But you've been caught by the police here, and what offence has he committed?" she asked, swinging round as her legs dangled off the table and her skirt rose an inch or two, her gaze on the officer that had spoken, whose gaze was indiscreetly on her hemline and replied,

"He was caught trying to break into a car ma'am. A Silver Jaguar on the east side of the city." His voice holding some form of camaraderie as if to attract her attention away from the criminal that she seemed so focused on.

The silence in the room was palpable as she looked Van up and down a few times and shook her head, her light blonde hair brushing her shoulders and curling around her neck.

"I'm disappointed in you 'Mr Fanel.' No offence to the good officers that caught you in all respects, but hotwiring a car, and badly is completely below you. Even you would look down your nose at stealing from a car, you like the challenge and would try and steal whatever was in that car when it would be in a safe-deposit box in the least accessible room possible."

Van, being on the receiving end of five stares, not including the female's wanted to get out of the room, but the female seemed to be playing to his advantage. He just wondered when his brother would be involved or roped into the conversation.

However the next comment would have knocked him off his feet, had he not been sitting down,

"How many crimes is he wanted for Miss Strategos?" the sergeant asked aloud. The female looked up at him and smiled gently, in the most appeasing manner she knew how,

"I'm afraid that's classified Sir. In fact I would be grateful if we could leave now. I have a car waiting. And this department will certainly be rewarded for its good work! In fact I wouldn't be surprised if the director himself won't personally call you and thank you."

She stood up and pulled out a pair of handcuffs from the small black purse hanging by her hip, which was rather erotic to all the males within the cell, even the aging sergeant had to swallow to keep his mouth from going dry. She placed them on the table and pulled out a see through evidence bag into which she placed the driving licence and wallet.

Then sealing the bag, she placed it in her purse, closed it and stood up. She gestured to Van, sitting across from her and she smiled gently,

"Stand up please with your hands behind your back." He remained seated, his eyes flickering from her face to the open handcuffs, emotions calmly flickering behind them as he had learned not to rise or react to things but calmly respond.

He raised an eyebrow behind his thick bangs and he noticed, surprisingly that she seemed to blush slightly, though no one else seemed to notice. One of the officers had stood up during his inner-workings and pulled him up by the arms to his complete surprise and held out a hand for the handcuffs which the female agent provided. Van looked at the female who had started to walk round to reach behind him so she could get a hold on the chain linking his hands and smirked at her.

For the first time during the entire proceedings the female agent seemed to lose her bearings as she stared directly at him as if he had caught her thinking something she shouldn't. The officer that had cuffed Van smiled at her and pulled his hands away from the cuffs as she put her hands on it, his fingers brushing her wrist his gaze never leaving her.

* * *

Hitomi took a deep breath as she held onto the chain, her other hand on Van's arm guiding him out of the cell, into the corridor and out of the station her heartbeat racing after the almost end when the sergeant said they would give a police escort.

She thanked her lucky stars for her boss' planning and stated that she had a car waiting outside which would take them straight. Straight to where her brain exploded, but the sergeant seemed to glare and then shrug as if arguing with a Federal Agent would end his career.

Luckily he chose not to and valued his pension fund more, letting them go out through reception, down the steps and into the unmarked car across the road with the white haired driver.

She pushed Van's head down and into the seat, shutting the door and locking it, then walking round the back and opening the door on the other side and sitting next to him. Closing the door, the man in the driver's seat started the engine and pulled out and onto the main road.

Van could see in the rear mirror he was smirking, however he was surprised that no one talked during the car journey. However a few minutes later he realised that they were heading neither in the direction of his building, or where his brother worked. Before he could speak up, his fellow passenger motioned,

"Turn left here D, just outside the gates, and then go back to the boss. Tell him I'll be back in half an hour."

The driver silently followed her instructions and stopped in front of the gates of what Van recognised as the Fairfield Park, he looked to his side and heard the door slam shut and his door open, the female waiting for him to get out of the car. He looked up at her and swung his legs outside, heaving himself out of the car and shutting the door with his foot a second before it drove off.

Hitomi was looking at him and tilted her head gently, the blonde hair fluttering in the wind mechanically. She turned and walked away in the direction of the duck pond, leaving him no choice but to follow her as his hands were still cuffed together.

They stopped within seconds of one another, Hitomi leaning against the railings, her eyes scanning the outreaches of the pond and weeping willow that seemed to be dancing with an invisible partner in the wind.

Van was uncomfortable in such a situation, normally he would have plenty to say to her, but after his confession to her last night he wanted to get away as fast as possible. He coughed gently and it seemed to uncoil whatever was agitating Hitomi as she swung round and slapped the back of his head hardly, glaring at him.

"Dammit! Woman what was that for?" he glared back at her, wondering why the hell violence seemed to be the answer to Hitomi in such a situation.

Silence reigned as Hitomi looked away, one again seemingly fascinated with some dumb old tree. "Will you get these cuffs off me?" he demanded. She turned round and looked at him silently, "Please?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes and took out a key from her purse and walked round behind him, releasing him and replacing the cuffs in her purse. She held out his wallet and driving license as she stuffed the 'evidence' bag in her purse as well. Why was she being completely silent he wondered, was she that uncomfortable?

Hitomi watched him and sighed gently before letting rip.

"What the hell were you doing trying to and failing miserably at hotwiring a car?" he stood still at the oncoming force of her tirade.

She sighed and he mumbled out a brief,

"Thanks. For you know…"

"Saving your arse? No problem."

"What's with the hair?" he asked, and her eyes widened and nodded as her fingers seemed to dig into her scalp and off came the blonde wig, her own honey strands in a ponytail, placing the wig in the 'evidence bag.'

He watched her as she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly,

"I couldn't use my real name or anything, in case they realise they've been conned and go about looking for me. They won't find me."

"Are you sure? They might go looking for you for other reasons?" she rolled her eyes at him and bit out,

"No need to be so ungrateful. I was happily drinking coffee before I stepped in. I could have easily let you get your reputation pulled to shreds and watched from the sidelines."

He looked baffled at her response, and she gestured, "I saw you being pushed into the police car, called Folken who always has the police band on at the office and I went to the police station after you, Dilandau said he would be outside in a car to get us out of there."

She stopped, taking a breath and looking at him, as if she was surprised to see him there,

"I just knew that if word got out you were arrested it would be bandied about everywhere and all anyone would talk about would be that time you got arrested for breaking into your own car. Why did you do that? If I may ask?" the sarcasm in her voice evident.

He had at least the decency to blush she thought, mentally noting how cute it was,

"I lost my keys and needed to get my briefcase. I just remembered what Dilandau told me and thought I could do it…"

"But obviously not well enough as you thought as you got caught by the police." She smiled gently, "I heard you led the police an awful chase round the back streets."

He grinned slightly,

"Yeah, quite funny on retrospect but not at the time."

"You know you could have just told them it was your car and explained yourself out of the situation? But I guess it runs in the family to run from the police."

She smirked, he looked at her and asked,

"By the way, why didn't Dilandau say anything on the way here? I thought he'd have taken every opportunity to take the piss out of me and lord it over."

She smirked slightly, blushing under his gaze,

"I just told Folken and Dilandau that if they used it against you or teased you about it, I would tell Allen about Dilandau's rendezvous with Celena, and Sora how her husband forgets her birthday and who reminds him of the day. They won't tell a soul. Promise."

He smiled, and then it faded as he realised in any other situation he would have hugged her in thanks, but it was awkward now.

"Thanks, for you know protecting my 'honour.'" He coughed out, looking at her, "I'll have to repay you somehow." He watched her turn towards him and lean against the railings of the duck pond.

She smiled gently and muttered,

"Meh, I don't know. You could marry me?" She thought it would be funny, however took that thought back immediately when she managed to look up and notice his shell-shocked face and rushed to smooth it over, but was unable to when he replied,

"You didn't seem that agreeable last night when I told you how I felt." She blushed furiously, and stumbled over her retort,

"Well you didn't give me much of a chance."

"You spat out your coffee, what was I supposed to think?" he growled, feeling as if she was questioning him when he had been the one who had put his feelings out on the line and here she was almost criticising him for not doing it right.

What did she want from him?

"Time to take it in. That's what!" she retorted and he realised that he had spoken aloud and started to feel it was very hot in this otherwise cold autumn morning, and he had been running only an hour previous and his brain hadn't yet caught up with all the situations that had floored him in the past 18 hours.

He was so lost in the acute absorption of what had actually happened to him that he barely caught Hitomi exhaling,

"Did you mean it?" She waited and no response came, she sighed,

"When you told me…" she stopped, unsure of how to go on but he cut across her,

"That I'm in love with you." He spoke clearly. He looked at her and watched her eyes widen as if her brain had shut down all because of one measly statement.

Alright not a _measly_ statement, but just a statement. Why was she acting liked he had confessed to killing her pet cat or something?

"You keep saying that." Was all she was capable of muttering.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, irritated by her brainless behaviour.

"Yes for crying out loud! I'm in love with you. What more do you want?!" he cried but was stopped by her body pressed up against his and her hands locked round his neck.

He also hastened to add that her mouth was moving against his and without delay he had responded, taking control of the kiss as any self-respecting man would.

She grinned as she pulled back,

"So you do love me."

He stared down at her puzzled as she smiled gently,

"Thank you." He couldn't help but look at her mystified and then heard her whisper,

"Love you too." She leaned against him, grinning widely,

"But that doesn't mean you don't owe me for today!" He relaxed slightly and smiled peacefully as though the events of the morning had not even occurred whatsoever.

In fact when he had thought of the other possibilities of Hitomi reacting to his confession last night, this was going in the right direction.

She started giggling against his neck and he looked down at her, wondering what was so funny; aside from the fact that they had stood in the park kissing and talking congenially for the past half hour, when she murmured,

"By the way, _I_ have your car keys." He let out a groan and pulled her chin up so his mouth could envelop hers, punishing her in a way they both enjoyed.

_Fin_

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A/N: thankee. Cheers. Peace out. Sina xx


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